The Mercury Chronicles: Darkly
by respitechristopher
Summary: It's Career Time for our Mercurial Trio. What will they be! Who will they wear! Will they grow up to be just like their famous parents! All that, and Albus in Eyeliner. Written for the Iron Fic: Mirror of Erised contest in the Teachers' Lounge forum.


Author's Note: This was written for the Iron Fic: Mirror of Erised contest in the Teachers' Lounge forum. I went up against littlebirds, who wrote "yn ed tnaci chih wtahte mwohs." That story's brilliant. She's brilliant. Read her stuff. And please enjoy More Mercurial Madness!

The Mercury Chronicles: Darkly

April, 2022

Our discomfort with questions regarding Our Future Plans, of course, didn't come from a vacuum. And it's not that we don't appreciate being asked, rather that that line of questioning has gone on so long that it's become tedious and more than a bit cliché. It started, unsurprisingly, two months before OWLs, when, as every year of Hogwarts students has for at least the last thousand, we were being unceremoniously shuffled along into the business end of our scholastic careers. All of a sudden it was no longer good enough simply to know which end of the wand to hold, we were now being asked what we'd like to do with it.

"Well, we all know which end of the wand Albus holds on to," Scorpius laughed. "However, whether he's ever going to do anything with it again is up for debate."

Rose rubbed the bridge of her nose and mouthed "Too Soon!" over my shoulder. At least that's what I imagine happened. It had been only two months since I received that frightfully tacky "Dear Albus" letter from That Irish Girl, and while the wounds had certainly healed, they were nowhere near scarred over. Scorpius, to his credit, blanched rather immediately and begged my forgiveness.

"Quite alright, love," I said. "It's certainly been long enough at this point for me to take a bit of ribbing over it. Besides, if I go on moaning about what's-her-name any longer, you're going to have to put me in a black frock and a veil."

"That might be worth it, darling," Rose answered. "As long as you don't go overboard. There's a difference between a soulful, melancholy affectation and looking like your middle name's sake."

"So you're saying the veil might just be one too many?"

"Without question, love," Scorpius replied. "Besides, it would hide that beautiful eyeliner work you do."

"Excellent point. Now, we've got this horrid Career Thing to manage, darlings. We should obviously attend, but how shall we get around having to actually talk about careers. Unless – I'm obviously reaching here, but – do either of you actually know of a career that would interest you?"

"Well, I'd say Head Auror," Rose said, "But you've certainly beat us to it." Scorpius got a chuckle out of that, as well. I was much of the way replying to her cheek with a two-fingered salute before it occurred to me…"

"The most amazing thing about you, dear cousin, is that you're at your smartest when you're trying to be an ass."

"I was not-"

"Oh just hush. We'll take a page from First year. I'll walk up there with all the sincerity I can feign –"

"Not much!" Scorpius coughed.

"_All the sincerity I can feign_," I repeated, "and tell them I'm interested in the Auror Corps. Rose, perhaps you could help me make sure my hair won't stay down?"

"Only if you can transfigure me a reasonable replica of a S.P.E.W. badge, love."

"All well and good for you two," Scorpius interjected, "but what am I supposed to say; 'Is there any room left in the pureblood supremacist terror squad course?' Perhaps I could borrow your eyeliner to draw a dark mark on my forearm?"

"Your father may well have been best known for being a Death Eater during the war, my darling," Rose answered. "But these days he's known for his charitable work. Perhaps you could slick your hair down, look suitably contrite for the sins of your forefathers, and tell them you'd like to help manage your family's philanthropic endeavours. That's probably not so far off from what you'll wind up doing anyway, so the Masters will probably not think you're having a go, unlike with us."

"Perhaps I should go first then," Scorpius said, and we spent the next half-hour finalizing our strategies – after they talked me out of nicking James's Gryffindor tie.

Shortly after breakfast that Saturday morning, the entire fifth-year class were brought into a room on the seventh floor. Now, one would think that with the sheer volume of Second War stories Rose and I had been subjected to over the years, we would know where we had been taken. Alas, we'd become so good at distancing ourselves from such things that we'd not recognised the Room of Requirement at all. The room was sparsely populated, with one chair per student behind rows of desks, a seat for Uncle Neville, and a door behind him.

"Good morning, Fifth Years," Uncle Neville began. "A school that has lasted as long as Hogwarts isn't going to be shy on its traditions. Unfortunately, with generation on generation of witches and wizards experiencing the same traditions, it is difficult to keep many of them secret. So I do hope that you enjoy what we're about to show you. It's a tradition that's not yet twenty years old, but one that your fellow students have reported to be among the more powerful of their time here. When I call your name, please walk through the door behind me. You will be instructed further there. And please let's do keep this one a surprise for our younger siblings, alright?

We muttered our assent, and Uncle Neville began calling names. Rose was the first of us to be called, followed by Scorpius, who seemed to take forever. When my turn came, I smiled at Uncle Neville and walked through, only to be presented with a full-length mirror. Not being one to pass up a chance to check my outfit, I began adjusting my collar and smoothing out my hair, before Professor Sinistra began to bark at me.

"For pity's sake, Potter. We know that your family told you about the Mirror of Erised, but you don't have to go parading around like that. Sure, I get it. You're the happiest man in the world and only see yourself. Bollocks. If you're not going to take it seriously, just head back to your common room."

This was not part of the plan. And not only wasn't it part of the plan, but I'd have come up with something much more clever had I known they were going to take us to the mirror. And besides all that – why was I looking at an image of myself? Certainly, being the son of Harry Potter had its advantages, but I was hardly the happiest person on earth.

I ran my hand through my hair and my knees buckled as I saw a lightning bolt shaped scar under my fringe. I looked at my tie to see that, yes, it was Gryffindor. I panicked.

"Well, fine. If you don't believe that I'm the happiest man in the world, it's your loss," I said, and walked out into the 7th floor corridor.

That evening, a very flustered Rose walked straight up to my seat in the Slytherin common room, grabbed my hand, and pulled me out into the Dungeons corridor. She didn't say a word as she continued to lead me through the castle, up the stairs, and back into the Room of Requirement. The mirror was still there, and in front of it was a very transfixed Scorpius, one hand almost daring to reach into the mirror.

"Scorpius?" I asked. He didn't respond.

"Scorpius? Come on, mate, what is it? Can't be that bad, right?"

He still didn't respond, so I sat down next to him and put my arm around his shoulder. Rose joined me on the other side of him. His cheeks were streaked with tears, and his eyes were hollow.

"Why don't you tell me what you see?" I asked.

Scorpius took a deep breath, and exhaled. Rose rubbed circles into his back.

"Do you remember the Creevy photographs? Do you remember my father's? The one where he's just sitting there with his scarred forearm exposed? I have a framed copy of that photo, and I am erasing the dark mark on Father's forearm with a rubber, and hanging it over the mantel with the other family portraits, right next to one with Rose's family. That's daft, right? I mean, it was such a long time ago, and –"

Rose inhaled sharply, tears beginning to well in her eyes, too. I had a wry smile on my face as I pulled Scorpius's head over to me and kissed his forehead.

"I'd reckon you could do worse, you know," I told him. "But my father said you could go mad looking at that mirror all day, so perhaps we should just take you back to your common room. Think we could tear you away, cousin?"

Scorpius smiled, and wrapped the two of us into one of the tighter embraces we've ever shared, kissing the tops of both of our heads. It was a silent walk back to the Ravenclaw common room, with Rose and Scorpius holding hands, and my walking alongside.

I never did find out what Rose saw in the mirror.


End file.
